Stardust
by FairyLies
Summary: Santana Lopez had to choose between her music career and the girl that carved the initials 'QF' on her heart.
1. Chapter 1

_There are millions of people around the world that are convinced they're happy. They could be rich, they could be in love, they could even be religious__—_ it doesn't really matter what they are... Basically, they're just content with how their lives turned out. They wake up every morning, looking forward to what's to come. As if life itself isn't twisted... 

_There are two elemental reactions to these people__—_ you either envy them or pity them.

_You envy them because of the smiles that are seemingly fixed on their faces. You envy them because they have what you don't. You envy them because you're not one of them. On the other hand, you pity them because you're smart enough to know the truth. You understand that pure happiness is nonexistent. That every smile masks a certain amount of tragedy, that every single life is laced with regret and pain. It would be a different case if it were possible to truly satiate human thirst, but the world is greedy and so are those that inhabit it._

_It's easy to make a choice between something bad for you and something good for you. It's a bit more difficult to choose between two things that are both bad for you, but since the outcomes are negative__—_ choose the lesser evil. While, choosing between two good things, two things that make all of the agonozing crap present in this world actually worth it, is just fucking torture.

_In the third scenario, no matter what you pick, you end up asking__—_ what if? It's such a short and simple question, but the bitterness it brings is downright toxic. The generated uncertainty eats away at your insides, until you're just a hollow body. Until you're left questioning whether or not you actually made the right decision... It wouldn't really matter though because you'll be too late_—_ second chances are rare and life waits for no one.

* * *

**2016**

Santana shakes her head, trying to get rid of the haziness clouding her mind. She knows that she drank too much again, but they were celebrating, it was a great night for the team... They just finished an amazing show_— _a sold-out venue, thousands of screaming fans, a perfect performance.

Noah, her manager, told her that she made a shitload of money tonight, but she just waved off the comment as if her earnings were of little importance. In a way they _were_ insignificant_—_ she learned a long time ago that cash isn't quite capable of filling that void in her chest. It's nice to be rich, but once you run out of things to buy_— money loses its value_.

Yeah, there was a point where she was mainly working for the money... So she could provide herself and her family with everything they never had, but now that she has enough to support everyone that she loves_—_ she's honestly working because she's _addicted_ to the life. There's something about writing songs, singing in concerts and being _'Santana Lopez' _that prevents her from dropping everything for a simpler way of life. She depends on the rush that comes from the fact that she's finally living her dreams. _It's highly addictive, almost drug-like. _Plus, it's not like she can just quit in a snap of a finger...

It's not that simple.

"Baby, what's wrong?" One of the girls they brought back to their hotel room straddles Santana on the couch and wraps her arms around her neck. "You look so down, why don't you let me_—_"

"No, I'm okay," Santana gently pushes the redhead off her lap and stands up, she lets out an exaggerated yawn before looking around the room. "I'm exhausted, I'll just see you all tomorrow, alright? G'night." Her entourage tries to convince her to stay, but she just shakes her head and silently makes her way to her bedroom. Her brain is replaying images of the life she had before all of the fame and it's causing her heart to clench painfully. It's fucked up how it's even possible for something that you can't see or touch to hurt so badly...

She sucks in her lower lip, figuring out if she was going to succumb to the evil known as _drunk dialling. _She mumbles out a soft _'fuck it__' _before grabbing her phone from the nightstand, she scrolled through her contacts until she landed on _her _name. She hesitates for almost a full minute then she mentally berates herself for being such a pussy, she finally taps on the number, making sure to dramatically squeeze her eyes shut when her thumb comes in contact with the touchscreen. _  
_

**Quinn** **Fabray ㈴5**  
_Calling mobile..._

After all these years, that freaking smiley is still so damn accurate. She nervously grits her teeth as the gadget continued to ring, her mouth drying up while her hope decreased. She was about to press the sleep button when she hears a faint_ 'hello?'_ on the line. Santana's eyes widen because Quinn hardly answers her calls or even acknowledges her existence... "Hey," she breathes out, still wondering if this was all happening or if she was just drunk enough to hallucinate. "How are you?" She asks lamely because that's the best she could come up with since her abnormal heart rate was making it difficult for her to think.

_"Good."_ Santana sighs because one-words answers are awful, she sits down on her bed and strains her ears so she could hear Quinn's soft breathing on the receiver. She tries to whisper out a sincere-sounding _'I miss you',_ but the alcohol in her system caused the three words to unattractively slur together. _"Are you drunk right now?"_

"No, I'm just really tired," she fakes a yawn to make herself sound more convincing, but she knows it's futile because Quinn can easily tell when she's lying. She decides to just quickly change the topic, hoping to prolong the conversation. "So... Where's _what's-his-name_?"

_"You know his name is Luke... And he's not here right now."_

"Oh yeah, it rhymes with _fluke_, how can I ever forget?" Santana can't prevent the bitterness from invading her voice, she hates the fact that Quinn is seeing someone else_— someone that isn't her. _"Wait, I'm sorry," She quickly adds when she hears her ex-girlfriend sigh deeply, she didn't want Quinn to get pissed and hang up. "So you weren't at the show again a while ago..."

_"Santana, you have to stop wasting your money on plane tickets that you know I won't use."_

"Money isn't a problem, Q."

_"Like you always wanted, right?" _

Santana clenches her jaw out of frustration, she barely stops herself from verbally lashing out. Her career was always a sensitive topic for the both of them_—_ _it's even the main reason for their breakup. _"This has always been my dream, Quinn… I thought you understood that."

_"I did." _

"What the fuck happened then?" She wants to remain calm, but hearing Quinn's voice after months of no communication is messing with her head. The amount of alcohol she consumed mixed with the feelings coursing through her veins was a very dangerous combination.

_"You ended up choosing it over me." _

"Bullshit." Tears begin to form in Santana's eyes as the past leaked into her mind. Even after being apart for almost two years_—_ it still hurt, it's _always_ going to hurt. Quinn was the first person she fell in love with, Quinn was the _only _person she fell in love with. "All of this was for us, I don't understand why you stopped seeing that... _We're _the ones that made this happen, we started this together, right?"

_"I- I have to go, stop calling me, Santana cause sometimes when you catch me off-guard… I'm stupid enough to pick up." _Guilt fills Santana's guts as soon as she hears the shakiness of Quinn's voice, she knows the blonde is probably close to crying now. She absolutely hates being the reason for Quinn's tears... _When the person holding your heart gets hurt, you feel it too. "Bye, S."_

"Quinn, wait_—_" The call ends and Santana wipes her eyes using the sleeves of the hoodie she was wearing. "But I still love you." She whispers out into the empty room before angrily throwing her phone onto the bedspread. Every moment that passes without Quinn is excruciating... Can it still be considered living if it feels like she's breathing in misery in place of oxygen? There may be a scientific limit for the amount of physical pain the human body can handle, but emotional pain is a whole different story.

_She's Santana Lopez__—_ a multi-millionaire, award winning superstar. But she's also Santana Lopez_—_ the girl who's still utterly in love with Quinn Fabray.

* * *

**2009**

"One day, I'll be famous, Q. Everyone will know who _'Santana Lopez'_ is and we'll finally be able to live the lives we deserve," Santana tells her best friend passionately, her eyes shining with zeal. "I'm going to get us all out of this shithole, I promise."

"I know you will. And even when you're world famous, I'll still be your number one fan."

"You'll always be my number one," she reassures her blonde best friend bashfully. "Nothing will ever change that..." They're hanging out in the local park and since it was getting late, there isn't a lot of people around anymore. The two fifteen year olds are sitting on one of the benches, close enough for their elbows to brush against one another's.

Santana side glances at Quinn, admiring how gorgeous the girl beside her is. The sun is starting to set, and the reddish glow glazing Quinn's usually pale face was making these adorable freckles under her eyes more noticeable. She absentmindedly grazes her teeth over her lower lip, completely captivated. "What's up?" Quinn tilts her head to the side and Santana swallows the lump that formed in her throat.

"Nothing," she swiftly looks away, but Quinn forces her to look into hazel orbs again. Santana's eyes flicker down to a set of perfect lips before she absentmindedly starts to lean in closer, it's like her body was on autopilot. When her lips came in contact with a cheek, she knew she fucked up. She abruptly stands up and backs away from where Quinn is still sitting. Her face is burning from embarrassment and she's contemplating whether or not she should just run all the way home and hide until Quinn forgets. "I'm so sorry, I don't know why I—"

"San, shh it's okay... It's just that umm—" Quinn starts blushing furiously and Santana wants to kick herself in the face for putting them in such an awkward position and risking their friendship. _You're such an idiot, Lopez... _Before she could get too far, Quinn grabs one of the front pockets of her shorts and keeps her still.

"I'm just being weird, don't mind me... Can we please just forget what happened?" Her voice is trembling so badly, she doesn't sound like her usual confident self at all. "I didn't mean to, I was just going to—" Quinn interrupts her pathetic attempt to come up with an excuse by standing up and placing a finger on her lips, confusing her immensely.

"Stop."

"I am, I won't—"

"I mean, stop talking first... Breathe, S." Quinn holds Santana's shoulders and she relaxes a little. "Look, I want to do that _thing _you were trying to do, but I don't think I know how and I'm kinda nervous," she whispers out before shyly averting her eyes to the ground. Santana's heart melts because the girl in front of her is basically perfect, she silently leads the blonde to an empty swing set and asks her to sit down. She keeps her hands on the metal chains to prevent the swing from moving too much before kneeling down so she could be roughly face-to-face with Quinn. "I can't believe I just told you that..." Quinn uses her palms to cover her face, but Santana immediately removes them.

"Hey, you can tell me anything, Q. And don't worry about it," she gently cups Quinn's heated cheek and they lock eyes again. "Are you _sure_ you want to do this though?" Quinn nods and Santana's heart speeds up even more, it was now relentlessly thumping against her ribs. There are butterflies in her stomach and she's feeling slightly lightheaded, but it's a good kind of dizziness. She takes in a deep breath in attempt to keep her voice steady. "Purse your lips together and just follow my lead, alright?"

Quinn did as she was told and Santana went for it, she finally fulfilled her dream of kissing her best friend. As soon as their lips touched, Santana felt like her legs were going to give up from under her. It's magic— awkward, uncoordinated and inexperienced magic,_ but magic nonetheless_. Santana's ears are buzzing and everything just seems so surreal... They smile at each other when the kiss ends, unsure of what to say next. "_That was—_ um, I'm really glad you were my first, San." Quinn sheepishly mumbles out after a while, making a wide grin form on Santana's face.

"Yeah, it's cool, _anything for you_."

_Santana never told Quinn, but that was her first kiss too._

* * *

**2016**

"Rise and shine, superstar." Santana releases an irritated groan before blindly hurling a pillow towards the door. There's something so sinister about waking up someone that doesn't want to go back to the real world yet_—_ _sleep is the most accessible anaesthetic_. "Santana, come on, it's past noon and we need to start getting you ready for tonight..." Kurt, her stylist, rolls up the roman blinds, flooding the room with blinding daylight.

Santana buries her face deeper into the pillow she's resting on, silently praying for time to stop. "I'm sick, I can't make it tonight," she fakes an unattractive series of coughs, making Kurt's face scrunch up in disgust and doubt. "Text Noah to cancel whatever I have planned for today."

"San, it's Noah, you know he won't do that," Kurt peels off the comforter that was keeping her warm and she finally sits up, she glares at him and he challengingly raises an eyebrow. "Okay, what's with the attitude?" Kurt may work for Santana, but he's also a good friend of hers, he's been there since the beginning of her career.

"I just need some more sleep, alright?" Santana shakes her head a couple of times, clearing it. "I guess I should've gone straight home after the show last Saturday," it's Monday morning and she's in dire need of proper rest but like always, she has no time for her health. "The boys made it impossible for me to fall asleep," she yawns before checking her phone— nothing important.

"As if you're not used to them by now, at least you've finally learned not to let them party _here_," Kurt gives her a pointed look and she nods in agreement. "So I was thinking you could wear that beige—"

"I called Quinn."

"What?"

"I called Quinn at around 3 in the morning yesterday." Santana explains vaguely, she closes her eyes and remembers how good it was to hear the blonde's voice. "I think I made her cry again, Kurt... I keep fucking telling myself that I'm going to leave her alone, that I'm going to let her be happy, but it's not working. I just really have no control over myself when it involves her."

"Well, it _is _Quinn so I can't blame you," Kurt sighs audibly before taking a seat on the edge of the bed. "What did she say?"

"She didn't really say anything, I kinda mentioned her new boy," Santana makes a gagging sound and Kurt disapprovingly shakes his head. "And I don't know, we ended up talking about the past again..."

"Santana," Kurt starts off in a scolding tone and Santana immediately covers her ears, gesturing that she didn't want to hear whatever he was planning to say. She's heard it all before anyway, this isn't the first time she chose to be an idiot and try to force Quinn back into her life. She knows that it's not fair to the blonde, but it's frankly impossible for her to live a life, which has no Quinn Fabray, they've been through too much for her to completely cut the connection. _Not that she'd ever want to—_ _if it were up to her, they'd still be together_. "I can call Noah and ask if you really need to go to that event later..."

"No, it's fine," Santana flashes him a tightlipped smile before standing up and stretching her limbs. "I don't think alone time will be very helpful right now, I need to keep myself busy."

"Are you sure?"

"Kurt, I'm fine... It's been like 2 years, don't worry too much, I was just being drunk and stupid." Kurt reluctantly accepts her dishonest answer before leaving the room so Santana could take a shower. It's depressing how familiar she is with this routine by now... She'll be numb until something triggers her need for Quinn and she'll end up fucking up both of their attempts to move on. It's a process that's painful and at the same time necessary, each one of their post-breakup conversations provides her with an incomprehensible spark of solace, which she needs to keep breathing.

Every single interaction with Quinn leaves her with a remnant of their relationship that she uses to temporarily bandage the wound left by heartbreak. It may be selfish, but whenever the situation becomes unbearable_—_ she plays with the dying fire. She prods at the ashes and scraps until they reignite, consequentially burning the both of them all over again.

It's a sick cycle, but she doubts that she'll ever be strong enough to break it.

_x-x-x-x_

Four years in the limelight and she's still not used to the paparazzi and their endless questions. The relentless invasion of privacy was _harder_ when she had Quinn, but even if she's single now— it's still a pain in the ass. She smiles as if nothing is wrong though, as if she's enjoying the blinding flashes of their cameras. "Santana, are you dating anyone?" One of the microphone-wielding paparazzo inquires, she courteously smiles and shakes her head, hoping to breeze through the whole question and answer portion. "There's this rumor going around that you're officially with Blaze, any comments?"

"Blaze is a terrific DJ and a very good friend of mine," she knows that the statement didn't answer the question, but her PR manager said to keep her relationship with Blaze blurry, even if it was merely platonic. Blaze is an up-and-coming DJ in the music world, who recently announced that she was bi-sexual... One night, they exited a club at the same time and ever since then, their fans have been linking them together_—_ in spite of fact that Santana hasn't really done or said anything to give people the idea that she _isn't_ straight.

There's a reason why her relationship with Quinn was kept secret... She never wanted to hide Quinn, but her label told her that she couldn't enter the industry with a girlfriend and expect to be successful. It's the 21st century, but that doesn't mean that everyone's brains have evolved. After dodging a few more questions, she walks away from the group of reporters and enters the posh venue...

* * *

**2009**

It's been almost two weeks since that day in the park... Santana has a number of questions, but she doesn't voice any of them. They're not really the _'talk about your feelings' _kind of people and she doesn't want to strain their friendship just because _she's_ confused. The kiss was merely a favor, Santana knew Quinn was anxious about her first kiss and she was just being a good friend...

_Yeah, that's it._

"I'll see you at lunch?" Santana distractedly nods before walking away from Quinn's locker and towards her next class. It's not that she's intentionally being cold towards Quinn, but she has to do something to stop herself from falling even harder for her straight, Christian best friend._ It's all about survival. _Maybe the feelings would go away if she somehow convinces herself that it's impossible for them to end up together... Ugh, that fucking kiss gave her false hope that she _seriously_ doesn't need in her life.

"Miss Lopez, are you with us?" The sound of her surname makes Santana look up from the blank page of her maths notebook and lock eyes with her most hated teacher. She answers him with a _'yup__', _hoping it would be enough— _of course not_. "Alright then, what's the answer to the item on the board?"

She squints at the combination of letters and numbers, trying to make sense of the mathematical mess. She remembers Quinn explaining a similar problem to her a couple of days ago, she racks her brain for something useful...

_That was the day Quinn came over after school. Her hair smelled like that weird shampoo I liked and she was wearing her— FOCUS!_

Santana smirks as soon as she figures out the solution. "Y."

"Why?" The bastard up front raises an eyebrow cockily before clicking his tongue. "If you weren't so busy staring at your desk then you would_—_"

"I meant that the answer is _Y_... Well, in simplest terms," Santana interrupts him cooly, the teacher's face flushes as soon as he realizes that she was right. He clears his throat before going on with his lecture as if he didn't just make a complete ass out of himself. She takes out her phone and starts inconspicuously texting under the table.

**_Santana Lopez: _**_Thanks!_

_****__Quinn Fabray: __For? __  
_

**_Santana Lopez: _**_Kinda s__aving me in maths class._

_****__Quinn Fabray: __Oh n__o problem. :) I hate that guy.._

Usually Santana would continue the conversation, but she remembers that she's trying to get over her little crush on her friend so she pockets her phone and blankly stares at the equations scribbled on the board.

_Control yourself, Lopez..._

* * *

**2****016**

Santana smiles when she sees that her latest single is number one on iTunes, this is the feeling that she constantly craves for— the sensation of natural endorphins flowing through her body, knowing that she's come up with something fresh and relatable for those who listen to her music. Her phone is buzzing like crazy with congratulatory messages from different people, she ignores almost all of them though— most of them were from people in the industry, who don't _really_ care about her anyway...

While going through her Twitter timeline, a certain message flashes in a light gray banner at the top of her phone's screen, she immediately taps the bubble and reads the entire text.

**_Ashley Fabray:_ **_Hey San! Congratulations on another awesome song! _㈴3 _Call me when you can please? x_

Santana doesn't think twice before dialling Quinn's younger sister's number, Ashley Fabray has a special place in her heart and she misses the kid... _A lot._ Ashley picks up after a couple of rings. _"Santana!"_

"What's up, lil' Fabray?"

_"I told you to stop calling me that..." _Ashley replies, clearly unamused by the worn out pet name. _"Are you busy?"_

"I'm never going to be too busy for you, alright? Is something wrong?"

_"No, nothing's wrong... I just— remember a couple of years ago when I helped you plan out that huge surprise for Quinn?" _Santana plays back the memory Ashley was referring to, it was the weekend she flew back to Lima with Quinn and she organized a surprise party for her ex-girlfriend's 20th birthday.

"Yeah?"

_"I need you to do me a huge __favor..." _Santana hears the youngest Fabray suck in a deep breath, the sound making her feel a bit nervous about the impending request. _"I'm turning sixteen in three weeks and__—"_

"Of course, I didn't forget about your birthday, I actually already know what to get_—_"

_"Don't get me anything, just please come to Ohio and sing in my party." _A lump forms in Santana's throat as soon as she hears Ashley's plea, _hell __no_, she doesn't want to go back to Lima_—_ everything back there reminds her of Quinn... _"I know you don't usually perform in teen parties, but__—"_

"Ash, you know I love you... I just don't think it's a good idea for me to fly home anytime soon," Santana sighs before heading to the kitchen for a much-needed glass of water. "Plus, I'm pretty sure your parents and _Quinn_ won't want me there," the way the five-letter name rolls off of her tongue feels so familiar yet foreign, like reciting the first nursery rhyme she's ever learned.

_"Well, I want you there... Santana, I wouldn't even ask if it wasn't a big deal to me, but it's my sixteenth and I don't know any other superstars who love me enough to sing at some lame party in the middle of nowhere."_

"Have you tried asking Beyoncé?" She jokes, trying to buy herself some more time to come up with an acceptable excuse. When Ashley doesn't respond to her jest, she takes in a deep breath and continues discussing the issue. "If it were only up to me, I'd be there in a heart beat."

_"Santana, please?"_

"I really_—_"

_"When you and Quinn broke up, you promised that nothing would change between us, remember? You said you'll visit and keep in touch." _Santana sinks her teeth into her lower lip, fully aware that she hasn't been exerting enough effort to see Ashley. _"I haven't seen you in like two years, San... This is the perfect occasion for you to come home."_

"When did you get so damn persuasive, I swear you remind me more and more of your older sister every time we talk..." Santana chuckles lightly, ignoring the way her stomach was churning within her. "I'll talk to Noah and I'll get back to you, I promise I'll try my best... The party is on your actual birthday?"

_"Yeah it is, thanks San, this means the world to me."_

"No problem, kiddo... _Umm, _how's Quinn by the way?"

_"She's alright, she's still living in New York so I only see her like once a month." _Santana would do anything for the privilege to see Quinn once a month, if only it were possible... _"How about you, how are you doing?"_

"You know, the _usual_... Just drowning myself in work so I won't have to think about your sister_—_" It's supposed to be a lighthearted statement, but it's accuracy made it sound painful to both sets of ears.

"_San—_"

"Sorry, that wasn't supposed to sound _that_ pathetic, but I'm alright, Ash... I promise."

_"Now you really have to come home, I need to make sure you're still sane." _Ashley teases, making Santana's lips curve up into a soft smile. _"By the way, I don't think Quinn's really good in persuading, if she were then you guys would still be together... I'm still angry at her for hurting you like this, you know."_

"Hey, don't be like that... I already told you before that this whole thing was _my_ fault, please don't blame your sister," she knows the breakup negatively affected Ashley and Quinn's relationship_—_ the younger Fabray grew up with the both of them so Santana was basically blood in her eyes. "And Ash, Quinn convinced me to be stupid enough to let her go... I think that says a lot about how persuasive she can be."

_"It's just— it still doesn't make sense to me, you two were perfect for each other." __  
_

"I don't get it either, but it's fine, the only thing that matters to me now is that she's happy." Santana replies earnestly, trying to will the tears in her eyes to magically disappear. "I have to go, I'll call Noah today and tell him to fix my trip to Lima."

_"Thanks, San! You're the best."_

"Anything for you, Ash." The call ends, but it take Santana a couple of seconds before she puts down her phone. Her closing sentence caused a wave of memories to come crashing back... _She'd definitely do anything to make the Fabray sisters happy._ The whole conversation with Ashley was a reminder of how open and exposed the gashes on her heart were. As if her wounds were dowsed with alcohol_—_ the burn, prompting her to recall everything that led up to this point.

_Fragments of a love story, which was deprived of the happy ending that it rightfully deserved._

* * *

**2009**

Santana loves the way Ashley's eyes would light up whenever she'd visit the Fabray household, Quinn's little sister undoubtedly had her wrapped around her finger. "Hey, Ash, how's my favorite Fabray doing?"

"I heard that," Quinn playfully rolls her eyes before sticking her tongue out at Santana. "I'm your best friend so I'm pretty sure that_ I_ should be your favorite."

"Fine, since someone over here seems to be jealous... I'll just call you _lil' Fabray_ from now on_—_ how does that sound?" Santana winks at the younger girl and Ashley grins before nodding enthusiastically. "_Hmm,_lil' Fabray, you can be a rapper or something... Maybe one day we can collaborate on a track," she muses dreamily, her mind wandering as her fantasies filled her brain.

"Yes!" Ashley extends her fist towards Santana, the younger girl was taught how to 'fist bump' a couple of days ago and ever since then, Ashley would take every chance to use the new cool gesture. "I can't wait until you're famous, San."

"Neither can I, kiddo."

"Yeah, _well_, right now Santana and I have to pass high school by doing our homework," Quinn interjects, earning her an eye roll from Ashley_—_ it's ridiculously adorable how alike the two blondes were. "Do you need to do anything for school?" Ashley shakes her head, no. "Alright, you can go watch some TV," Ashley excitedly runs to the living room, barely allowing Quinn to finish what she was saying.

Santana chuckles amusedly, her eyes following the little golden head. "She's getting so big."

"At least _you_ notice... I swear, one day she's not going to recognize our parents," Santana frowns, knowing just how neglectful the Fabray couple is... Yeah, they have enough money to hire nannies and maintain a huge house, but they're never really around. "It's so unfair that she has to grow up like this."

"Well, she has you and she has me..." Santana reaches for Quinn's hand and gives it a light squeeze. "We'll take care of her." The smile that appears on Quinn's face is enough to sabotage all of Santana's efforts to stop crushing on her best friend.

_It sucks how Quinn can make her feel so much without even trying..._

* * *

**2016**

"Let me get this straight, you're missing a guest appearance in Blaze's first big concert to perform in a sixteen year old's birthday party?"

"Look, I like Blaze, she's cool and I'm into the idea of us working together in the future, but this is _Ashley's_ sixteenth and I already said I was going to be there," Santana tells him in a dismissive tone, making it impossible for her manager to alter her plans.

"You're giving up a good chunk of cash to perform for _free_ in your ex's little sister's party... I seriously don't think this is a wise decision, think of your fans and how much they'll enjoy seeing you with Blaze, this tandem can open up a lot of doors for the both of you..."

"I don't care, I'm going to be in Lima that weekend... Trust me, you have better chance of getting Blaze to move her concert than convincing me to stay," Santana mentally notes to text Blaze a sincere apology later on. "Now, be nice to me and fix the things I need for my trip, Puckerman."

"You're lucky that you're my favorite client," Noah grumbles before sending out a few texts to fix Santana's flight and hotel arrangements. "Done."

"See, was that so hard?"

"Think about the money that you just threw away, Blaze's group was willing to pay way more than your premium price when I told them that you might not be able to make it."

"Noah, I'm choosing Ashley over the fucking concert, end of discussion." Santana walks out of Noah's office, without sparing him another glance. Noah's the kind of manager whose main priority is the money and the fame. He helped Santana a lot when she was still breaking into the industry, booking her the best gigs and pairing her up with other great rising artists. All those milestones took a heavy toll on her personal time though... There were countless times, where she'd miss an important gathering or significant date because of a professional engagement. _  
_

She cringes as the memories of random fights with Quinn about time resurfaced. They frequently fought about Santana's inability to find the balance between her professional and personal life... She realizes now that every single argument they had resulted into a tiny, _almost invisible_, crack in their relationship. The cracks just kept coming, until they weren't really invisible anymore_—_ _until it was too late_. Everything just shattered and by the time Santana tried to fix things_—_ the pieces wouldn't fit together.

_x-x-x-x_

**Quinn Fabray ㈴5  
**_mobile_

Santana stares at her phone disbelievingly_— _Quinn would never call her..._ No way._ She unsteadily swipes her thumb over the slide bar to pick up. "Hello?"

_"Santana..."_

"Two phone calls in a month, I think we're breaking one of your rules," she's not sure how to deal with _this_ so she hides behind her walls for safety, the last time she spoke to Quinn, she was under the influence of alcohol and barely had control over her tongue. _This time will be different... _"It's late, is this some sort of long distance booty call?"

_"You wish," _Santana's breath hitches as a flood of pain fills her abdomen, the sound of Quinn's cold and emotionless voice was tortuous to say the least. She needs to be strong, she needs to at least _act _like she's okay. _"Ashley told me you're going to be at Lima for her party... I don't think that's such a good idea."_

"Neither did I, but you know I can't say no to that kid."

_"Tell her you couldn't get out of some appearance, make something up... Just don't go, Santana."_

Rejection stings like a bitch and Quinn's basically commanding her not to show up, a silent tear rolls down her cheek because _fuck__— _she was actually excited to see the love of her life in person again, but clearly Quinn didn't share the sentiment. "I'm _going_, I already promised her..."

_"So? It's not like you've never broken a promise before." _The sound of a bitter chuckle fills the line and Santana sighs through her nose. _"You're good at excuses, you'll come up with something."_

"I'm going to be there, Quinn," She restates adamantly, ignoring how hard it is to stop her voice from cracking. _Keep it together, Lopez... _"Don't worry, I'm not going there for you_— _I won't even talk to you if you don't want me to."

_"He'll be there."_

Those three words were enough to destroy all of Santana's restraint, an audible sob erupting from her throat. "Just fucking _great_, I can't wait to meet him then, oh and I hope your parents adore him... Let him know that your mom likes azaleas and your dad can't stand soccer and since you're replacing me with him, make sure he treats Ashley right too."

_"Santana—"_

"Do you think I actually want to go to Ohio? Do you think this is going to be some sort of vacation for me? Yeah, _brilliant_, take a break in the one place that tears you apart inside," she spits out venomously, the gush of emotions too strong to pacify. "News flash, _babe_, I'm not doing this for me or you... This is for Ashley and I don't care if your boyfriend will be there, do whatever you want with him, it doesn't concern me."

_"Santana, can you please relax?"_

"No, I can't fucking relax," Santana says through a clenched jaw because it's the only way to stop her teeth from chattering. "How dare you tell me not to go back home just because your joke of a boyfriend is going to be there?"

_"I didn't mean it like that, I just thought that—"_

"I can't have this conversation with you," Santana roughly rubs her knuckles over her eyes. "Let's compromise, I'll do everything I can to avoid you and right after I finish performing at Ashley's, I'll fly back to LA, you can just pretend that I don't exist... You're like pro at that anyway."

_"You're being unfair__—"_

"Whatever, have a nice life." She doesn't even bother to end the call before flinging the phone across the room, the screen cracking as soon as it comes in contact with the solid cement wall.

_Fuck everything._


	2. Chapter 2

_You can't recklessly hand your heart to someone and expect it to be unscathed when you get it back. Chances are, the person you leant it to would have disfigured it in some way, they would have left ineradicable imprints that even time cannot thoroughly scrape off. __That's why first loves are so lethal... __They ruin you at such a young age, drowning you in sweetness that you will desire for the rest of your life._

_But no matter how hard you try to rediscover or simulate it, nothing will ever come close. _

* * *

**2016**

She drives up the road leading to the Fabray house, thrumming with anxious energy. Her mind has yet to fully grasp the fact that she's in Lima, Ohio— _s__he's actually back. _Santana notes that the neighbourhood hasn't changed a lot, the houses that are rushing past her side windows still looked like the houses she used to pass whenever she would walk Quinn home. It's unbelievable how she can associate _every single thing _in this place with her ex-girlfriend.

The old tree over there, that was where Quinn's kite got snagged when they were seven, impelling Santana to get over her fear of heights just so she could see the blonde smile again. The blue house by the corner, that was their last stop during Coach Sylvester's candy bar fundraiser from hell in Freshman year, where she had to threaten the old lady to buy their remaining supply. The tiny alleyway between the two brick houses, that was where she first made out with Quinn in the summer before Junior year...

This whole town is tainted by memories that she's almost desperate to forget. Of course it hurt to remember the bad moments in their relationship, but it was the chronic echo of the happiness she only felt with Quinn that truly haunted her. She stops the car in front of the Fabrays' house and takes her phone out to text Ashley. The familiarity of this whole affair sends a shiver down her spine.

**_Ashley Fabray: _**_Coming! _

She gazes out of the passenger's side window until she sees a slim blonde emerge out of the front door, she speedily gets out of the rented car to greet the younger girl properly. "Look at you," she wraps her arms around Ashley, who hugs her back just as tight. "Damn, I missed you so much, lil' Fabray."

"I missed you more," Ashley mumbles against the material of her shirt. "I'm so glad you're here, it's been way too long."

"I'm sorry," Santana kisses the top of her head and tautens her hold around Ashley's body. "You're so tall now."

"Puberty," Ashely pulls back and shrugs her shoulders. "Plus, it's been 2 years, of course I changed a lot."

"Okay, how much trouble am I in?"

"A lot less than you deserve," Ashley sighs before hugging Santana again. "I know you're super busy, but—"

"No, Ash, you're right... I should've been around more and I'm really sorry."

"It's fine, at least you're here now," Ashley grins. "Do you want to come in for a while or..." She trails off and Santana nervously chews on her bottom lip. "Never mind, let's just go_—_ Breadstix, right?"

"Yup, my fucking favorite, I wish they'd build a Breadstix out in LA," Santana opens Ashley's door for her and then jogs back to the driver's side. "Do your parents know that you're with me?" She wants to ask if Quinn knows, but then that might lead to conversations that she'd prefer to avoid. "By the way, remind me to give you the book I brought for Judy when I drop you off later."

"I texted my mom, but she didn't reply so _whatever_. It's not like they'll be home for dinner anyway..." Ashley leans back in her seat as Santana began to move away from the curb. "Really, San? You're still sucking up to my parents even if you're not with Quinn anymore?" She knows Ashley is just teasing her, but she still flinches. "I'm sorry, I was just _kidd_—"

"Ash, it's fine," she assures her even if it wasn't exactly '_fine'_, it's a sensitive topic— _it's always going to be a sensitive topic. _"Where is she anyway?" Santana asks in the most nonchalant tone she can manage. "Is she here already?"

"Her plane should've landed by now."

"Wait, wouldn't she get pissed if she finds out that you aren't home?" She asks, knowing Quinn better than anyone. "I'm sure she's expecting to see you back at your place when she gets there."

"It's a Friday night and I'm allowed to go out," Ashley straightens up when Breadstix comes into view. "And it's not like I chose to hang out with some friend over her... _I'm with you._"

Santana smiles even if Ashley's words were bittersweet. There was a point in her life that she was so sure that Ashley was going to be her sister-in-law one day, but that probably won't happen anymore. "Ash, I'm seriously allowing you to punch me in the face if ever I don't make enough time for you again."

"I'll hold you to that," Ashley chuckles and Santana parks the car. "Awesome, I'm starving." Santana removes the key from ignition and takes in a deep breath before finally allowing her eyes to focus on the restaurant. It's been _so_ long since she's eaten in Breadstix... And to think Quinn and her used to go almost every week during date night.

Fuck, this trip is going to be the death of her.

_Stop thinking about Quinn. _

* * *

**2010**

"Are you going?" She shrugs in response to Quinn's question, eliciting another question from the blonde. "Well, do you want to go?" Santana finally looks up from her nails, meeting Quinn's eyes for the first time ever since this conversation started. "I mean, it's cool if you want to go_— _he seems..._ Nice_."

"Yeah?"

"Well, he's in my English class," Quinn looks away and begins playing with a loose thread hanging from her Cheerios uniform. "And he's a football player, which is perfect cause you're a cheerleader..."

"You know I don't care about the whole McKinley status thing," Santana replies, a bit annoyed with the way Quinn was acting. "Plus, I already told you that I wanted to quit cheerleading."

"To do what, San? Join glee club?" Quinn scoffs before standing up. "If you really want to commit social suicide then go ahead, just don't take me down with you." Santana narrows her eyes at her friend. "What? It's true... Who gives up a spot in the Cheerios to be in some shitty choir?"

"It's not a choir," Santana frustratedly pinches the bridge of her nose. "I just want to sing, alright? And it'll look good if ever I apply for music scholarships in the future."

"Like I said, if it's what you want then go ahead," Quinn grabs her backpack that was sitting on the foot of Santana's bed. "I have to go, I'll just text you later."

"Wait," Santana calls out at the same time Quinn's hand grasps the doorknob. "What about the date with Mike?"

"If it's what you want then go ahead..." Quinn stonily repeats her earlier statement and exits the room without looking back once. Santana sharply draws air through her teeth, exasperated by what just happened.

_No, I want you. _

She balls her hands into fists before brushing away her irrational thoughts with a heavy sigh and texting Mike back.

**_Santana Lopez: _**_Okay, let's go out. _

* * *

**2016**

They're sitting in the most hidden booth Breadstix possesses, steering clear of the possibility of a riot because of Santana's presence in the dainty restaurant. Ashley's ringtone plays again for the third time and Santana finally peeps at the screen of the cellphone.

**Quinny  
**_mobile _

"You should probably answer that, Ash." Santana says casually after sipping from her straw, Ashley quirks an eyebrow at her and she nods. "Yeah, go ahead, it's fine."

Ashley takes the call and Santana tries her best not to eavesdrop, but their proximity made it impossible. "Hey, Q, what's up?" Santana inwardly wishes she had sonic hearing so she could also hear what Quinn was saying on the other end. "Of course I knew you were arriving today..." The annoyed look on Ashley's face tells her that Quinn's probably bitching—_ like she predicted_. "No, I'm not going home yet."

"We can go if—"

"Quinn, I'll see you later," Ashley disregards Santana's offer by waving her hand. "It's none of your business who I'm with right now..." She rolls her eyes. "Okay, yeah, I'm with Santana. Are you happy now? Whatever, I have to go we're still having dinner." Ashley ends the call with a groan, incautiously flinging it into her bag. "Sometimes I really hate her."

"What's going on?"

"She's pissed that I'm not there to meet Luke." Ashley's whole face falls as soon as the name leaves her mouth. "I mean—"

"Don't worry, I already knew he was coming."

"What— _how?_"

"Quinn called me a couple of days ago," Santana sighs, swishing the ice cubes in her glass around. "She gave me a heads up... I should really bring you home, Ash."

"She called you?" Ashley asks doubtfully and Santana nods, apprehension all over her face. "I didn't know you guys still talked..."

"We don't— I mean, I called her a few weeks ago, but it's not a regular thing or whatever," Santana moves the leftover food on her plate with her fork. "Not at all, actually... She just really needed to talk to me, I guess."

"Quinn told you not to come here, huh?" Ashley asks with a scowl on her face. "She was so angry at me when I told her you're going to be there tomorrow, I don't get her... It's my party and you're my guest."

Santana ignores the sting from hearing that Quinn didn't want her around for the second time. "I'm sure she's just trying to avoid drama, I bet she's nervous about bringing Luke home and the fact I'm here is just making things unnecessarily harder for the both of them. I know your sister can be a total bitch sometimes, but forgive her, she loves you."

"_San_—"

"I should bring you home, Ash. I'm already in the doghouse with Quinn, actually I'm pretty sure I'm in some sketchy neighbor's doghouse by now," she distractedly evaluates the idiom. "Anyway, I just don't want to give her anymore reasons to hate me, she has more than enough."

"But you're leaving on Sunday and I'll probably be busy the whole day tomorrow so this is really the only time we can hang out..." Ashley murmurs disappointedly, making Santana feel like an asshole for allowing her horrible method of getting over Quinn to affect other important aspects of her life. "You guys may have ended things, but you're still family to _me_, S."

"You might actually make me cry if you keep talking like that," Santana says in a joking tone even if she wasn't feeling comical at all. "Well, it's going to be summer soon, right? Try asking your parents if you can spend a weekend in LA during the break or something... I promise to take care of you while you're there. Oh and I'll also make sure to see you before I go to the airport on Sunday," she adds, sweetening the deal. "I wish I could stay, but Noah would probably fly out here and drag my ass back to LA if I do."

"It's okay, I understand..." Ashley smiles before a much wider grin takes over. "This summer, really?" Santana nods once, earning her an excited squeal. "I'd love to go, I'll start begging tomorrow since it's my birthday and everything."

"Best of luck, lil' Fabray," Santana winks at her and Ashley playfully sticks her tongue out. "Now, let's get you back... You have a long day ahead of you tomorrow and I want you to get enough rest," she pays for the bill and they both walk back to the car. The drive to the Fabray house was a comfortable one, they just talked about random things the whole time, catching up with each other's lives. "Good night and happy birthday, Ash."

"Still a few hours to go," Ashley leans over the center console to hug Santana. "Thanks again for visiting, San. I'm really happy you came."

"I'm glad I did too," Santana replies honestly. When she withdraws from the embrace, a figure on the porch catches her eye despite the darkness. She feels her face pale because she_ just knows_ it's Quinn and that's enough to start a whirlwind in her. She wants to hop out of the vehicle and run to the girl, kiss her on the lips before they can even exchange words. Her mind knows it's a bad idea, but her heart is a vile influence... "I see Quinn," she retrieves the paperback book that she placed in the glove compartment earlier and hands it to Ashley. "Don't forget to give that to your mom, alright?"

Ashley bobs her head up and down slowly. "I hate how this feels like the old days, but—"

Santana feels her throat constrict because of what Ashley just said. "Me too, Ash." She cuts her off and the blonde waves goodbye to her one more time before finally leaving the car and making her way up the Fabrays' footpath. Having Quinn so close makes her feel both elated and miserable, she stalls for a couple of seconds before making her way to her hotel for some much needed rest.

_Listening to her head and silencing her heart.  
_

* * *

**2010**

**_Quinn Fabray: _**_I'm outside your house.. Might as well let me in, right? _

Santana stares at the screen for a lot longer than needed, trying to concoct a believable excuse, but she comes up short so she reluctantly gets up from her bed and goes downstairs. She slowly swings the main door open and Quinn greets her with worried eyes and a surprise hug, she hugs back instantly because her body just naturally knows how to react to Quinn's. "I hate you for ignoring me for this long." The blonde grumbles as soon as they untwine themselves from each other.

Santana rubs the back of her neck and lets her best friend in. "Yeah, I just needed to be alone for a while_— _you know, think about a couple of things and figure shit out..."

"How are you?"

"What do you think?" She shoots back snidely, finding Quinn's question idiotic to say the least. "I lost two thousand bucks on some stupid agency scam, I feel fucking amazing, Q." She states sarcastically, crossing the living room to grab something to drink from the kitchen.

"Don't take your anger out on me," Quinn follows her, preventing her from running away from the confrontation. "I'm sure this is why you and Mike didn't work out... You kept projecting your problems towards him, huh?" She knows Quinn is trying to get a rise from her, trying to distract her from being upset by pushing her buttons. It's dysfunctional, but pissing each other off has always been their way of comforting each other. "Answer me, Santana."

"You want an answer? Okay, here... _Fuck you,_" She flips her off and chugs down her water bottle before crushing the plastic material in her hand with a crunch. "I broke up with Mike because I wasn't into him, I was never really into him. And seriously? He's the least of my problems right now."

A hint of a smile appears on Quinn's lips, but before Santana could point it out— it was gone. "This whole hiding from the world thing isn't healthy, S..." Quinn sits on a stool by the black marble counter, drastically decreasing her temper. "For the both of us."

Santana lets out a heavy sigh, aware that she couldn't maintain her own sour mood_—_ not around Quinn. "I'm an asshole and you deserve an apology, but my pride is seriously bruised right now and it might actually kill me to give you one."

"It's okay, I accept IOUs_—_" Quinn motions for Santana to come closer and she complies, the blonde encloses her arms around her waist and buries her face into her neck. "I missed you."

"Missed you too," Santana kisses her left temple. "How about we go get some Breadstix or something?"

"Okay, but I'm paying."

"I won't argue with that, I'm fucking broke and single," Santana forces out a smirk to hide the shame she was feeling over the whole scam thing. It is her fault for being so naïve, but she just really wants to get out of Lima already and she'll take any chance she can get... Even if that _'chance' _is from some middle-aged woman in a cheap gray suit, telling her she's going to be the next Lady Gaga.

"Chin up, San."

* * *

**2016**

It's ironic that she's been sitting in the middle of the parking lot for almost ten minutes, trying to kill all the butterflies in her stomach. She's been on a nationwide sold out tour before, which means she's performed in front of thousands of fans, numerous times. This shouldn't be a challenge, she's just doing Ashley a small favor, she just needs to get through singing maybe two songs— three at most.

It's fucking simple.

_**Ashley Fabray:** Hi, where are you? _

Santana worries her lip and sighs heavily, she can't stay out here all night, no matter how much she wants to. She looks at her reflection on the rearview mirror and gives herself a harsh mental pep talk.

_You're performing for less than 100 people... Why the fuck are you scared? The sooner you get it over with, the sooner you can get out of this shithole. _

She sends herself one last affirming nod and finally opens the car door. She's wearing a red dress that Kurt packed for the trip, it was short and tight, but she still feels comfortable in it because she knows she looks good. She's seeing Quinn— she has to look nothing less than amazing.

**_Santana Lopez: _**_I'm entering the place, sorry I'm a bit late. x _

She signs the guest list and enters the venue before anyone can recognize her. Of course, some people already did, but they're still too shocked to approach her so she's capitalizing on that. She surveys the room until flaxen hair enters her vision, golden blonde locks sweeping across bare seraphic shoulders. She wishes her eyes didn't have minds of their own, that way she wouldn't be foolishly staring at the only angel in the room, but that's not the case.

_Quinn._

It doesn't surprise her that the first person she sees is Quinn, she's pretty sure the blonde could stand in the middle of a sea of people and she'll still be able to effortlessly seek her out. That's how soul mates work, like magnets, it doesn't matter how long they're kept apart— as soon as they're exposed to each other again, the pull of attraction ensues. It feels like something is jerking her heartstrings, sending her into a frenzy of emotions.

_Quinn is here. _

Her feet are moving towards the Fabrays even if a huge part of her just wants to hide in her car again. This reminds her of all the times Quinn brought her along to family gatherings when they were growing up. She always felt so inferior in the cold eyes of Russell and Judy, but being around Quinn meant coexisting with her prude parents.

And she's willing to do just about anything to be around Quinn.

Even if it means wiggling her way into an awkward group of five. Even if it means being around the new guy Quinn is dating. Even if it means allowing pure anguish to freely surge through her body.

"I'm sorry I'm late," she pipes out, forcing herself to just look at Ashley. _It's the safest option... _"Happy birthday, hon," She hands Ashley a letter envelope, which has her gift inside— an open ended, roundtrip business class ticket to Los Angeles. "You can just open that later on," she tacks on, unsure if Ashley broached up the subject with her parents already.

Before the younger girl can even speak, a shriller voice fills the air. "Santana, it's been so long," Judy says in her immedicable condescending way. "By the way, I got the book, thank you. It's lovely and I can't believe you remembered I liked that author."

"No worries, I had him sign the first page for you, he was—" Russell clears his throat, cutting her story short. "Good evening, Russell." She places on her special smile that she only uses when she's trying to impress Quinn's fucked up parents. She finally lets her eyes wander around the group, whisking past Quinn before she's put into a trance. She sees Luke for the first time in person and she admits that he's good-looking if you're into _that_.

"Hello, I really thought Ashley was kidding when she said you were performing tonight," Russell comments. "Thank you for coming all this way, I'm sure Ashley's friends will enjoy your performance... I imagine that you appeal to _their _generation the most since—"

"Hi, San," and just like that her world stops spinning, Quinn always knew when to safeguard her from her parents _"indirect" _disparagement. Santana knows she shouldn't take off her mask, she knows she needs to maintain her ongoing robotic demeanor, but Quinn just spoke to her and she feels like she's drowning. Before the ecstasy of having Quinn acknowledge her could sink in, the blonde destroys the illusion of happiness. "This is _Luke_," Quinn tilts her head towards the person to her left, a green-eyed brunette with a fair complexion and a good build.

Santana briefly thinks about being immature by blatantly ignoring the introduction. She doesn't have to be polite, _right_? This is the chump, who thinks he's good enough for _her_ girl. There's no reason for her to be nice to him... But it's Ashley's birthday and she doesn't want her endless indecipherable drama with Quinn to ruin the night. So she extends her right arm, prepared to shake hands with the devil in her eyes. "Santana."

"Of course I know you, you're Santana Lopez." Luke clasps her hand for an appropriate interval before gently dropping it. "I heard so much about you from Quinn." She curiously wonders what information Quinn would actually disclose about what they were. "I can't believe my girlfriend was childhood friends with you..."

In the corner of her eye, she sees Ashley snap her head towards Quinn, who was looking at everything except her. _Childhood friends? Fuck that. _She doesn't know to what extent her ex-girlfriend downplayed their relationship and right now she doesn't care to find out... She should've just stuck to her original plan of avoiding Quinn the entire trip. "Yeah, I can't believe we were childhood friends too," she shrugs, not even bothering to hide the hurt she was feeling. "Excuse me, I have to go talk to the DJ."

"San—" she coldly shakes her head and Quinn's mouth snaps shut. Santana courteously smiles at Judy and Russell one more time and Ashley reassuringly squeezes her forearm when she walks past her. She can feel Quinn's gaze scorching the back of her skull, but she's been around the blonde for less than five minutes and her gauge for pain is already full.

She hangs around the DJ booth, talking to her friend Paul, who flew to Lima just for her. Some of Ashley's friends shyly approached her and asked for autographs and pictures, she friendlily met all their requests with a genuine smile. She really loves her fans, she finds them all so amazing...

She doesn't find the courage to look at Quinn's direction again, not until Ashley calls her up the small stage in the middle of the room— her prompt to perform. "I'm glad that you're all here to celebrate my birthday with me, thanks for coming, guys!" The sincere smile on Ashley's face helped numb whatever it was Santana is feeling. "Now, I'd like to call on one of my favorite people in the whole world, Santana Lopez."

Santana climbs up the steps and everyone in the room begins to cheer as soon as the spotlight hits her. "God, it's been so long since I was last in Lima... Do you guys know I grew up here?" A resounding _'yes' _is heard and she grins at their enthusiasm. "Anyway, I'm going to sing a couple of tracks, but before I do that— I need you all to help me sing Ashley a happy birthday."

Of course they yielded and Santana proceeds to sing two of her most popular songs from her latest album, during the performance her eyes kept gravitating to Quinn, it just couldn't be helped. Maybe it's the masochist inside her, but there was no way she could snub the fact that the girl holding her heart was in the arms of another person.

_And she looks happy. _

She feels terrible for detesting Quinn's happiness. Yeah, she wants Quinn to be happy, but she wants Quinn to be happy with _her_. That was the plan..._ Forever and fucking always._ She catches Luke press a kiss onto blonde strands and she feels like crumpling onto the floor. It shouldn't work this way... It's not fair.

She ends the second song on a high note and everyone screams for more. She beams at the audience even if her bones were being mashed into dust by the intensity of her jealousy. She takes a quick glimpse at her feet, wondering how the hell she's still standing.

"Okay, last one, alright? Well, this one is a bit old, but it's one of my favorite songs to cover," she mouths out the title of the song to Paul, who looks skeptical about the choice, but follows anyway. _"Darling, I'm so happy you've been waiting for so long to finally find the guy to hold that has more right than_ _wrong." _She stabilizes her breathing, seeking Quinn's face in the rabble. _"And what's this is it actually for real? I guess at least it's good to know, you have a heart to steal... I held it for a while— tell me that's not true. My dear, it's clear these last two years have been a gift to you." _

Her eyes connect with hazel orbs and she freezes, momentarily stunned by the intensity of the eye contact. _"So picture this when you go to kiss, I hope that every time you'll think of me. And I'm gonna let it get to me—__" _She drops her gaze onto the floor for a second to compose herself, missing the cue for the next part, she stands up straight and tells Paul to cut the music. "What am I doing?" She chuckles awkwardly before properly addressing the confused guests. "Sorry, I realized just how unfitting that song was for tonight... How about I perform a track that I've never sung to a live audience before?"

It's obvious that the crowd didn't mind— Santana could use newspaper articles as lyrics and they'd still listen. She sings out the single that was currently on top of iTunes. And she bids all of the guests goodbye as soon as the song ends, knowing they could easily force her into going on, but the night was about Ashley and she didn't want to take anymore attention from the birthday girl. "San, that was amazing!" Ashley runs to her, smiling from ear to ear— she launches herself into Santana's arms for a grateful embrace. "And I opened the envelope, thank you so much!"

"No problem, Ash— but is it cool if I bounce early? I'm pretty beat," she knows Ashley's aware of the _real_ reason she wants to leave, the lack of discouragement from the younger girl proves it. "I'll come by your place tomorrow though, I promise."

"Do you want me to talk to Quinn?" Ashley asks softly and Santana shakes her head, managing a smile cause at least _one_ Fabray still cares about her feelings and understands that she's human. "I can't believe she said you two were just—"

"It's okay, Ash." She doesn't want to hear it again, she can't take anymore. "I'm going to go, enjoy the rest of the night, alright? And thanks again for inviting me." They hug goodbye and Santana makes her way to the exit, smiling at a number of teens on the way out.

She doesn't look back once because if she locks eyes with Quinn again, she'll probably go insane. Her composure falters right after she enters the privacy of her car, her body has gone haywire with everything that is Quinn Fabray...

And she seriously doesn't know how to deal with it.

* * *

**2010  
**

"What do you mean you're going to California?" Santana shrugs, keeping her sight on the small cracks covering the sidewalk. "You can't just run away and go to California, you idiot."

"Of course, I can," Santana argues, glaring at Quinn for doubting her capabilities. "The way I see it, I'm never going to catch a break here in Ohio... I just need to save up some cash and I'll take a Greyhound or something." Honestly, she doesn't have a concrete plan yet and she feels stupid for prematurely mentioning it to Quinn. They were three weeks into the summer before junior year and all the free time has given Santana radical ideas regarding her dream career. "Then I'll go to random studios and tell them to listen to me or else I'll go all Lima heights on them."

The joke doesn't even merit a chuckle from her best friend. "You have such a brilliant brain, I wonder why you never use it..." Quinn offhandedly says, accompanied by one of her signature eye rolls. "How are you going to live?"

"I'll get signed during my first day and I'll buy a condo or something, you can visit me whenever you want to get away from the parentals. Maybe even bring Ash..."

"Your cockiness is the reason why you're always getting yourself into trouble."

"It's confidence, Q." Santana spits back defensively. "I'm just trying to be positive, alright? I need to fucking get out of this place already."

"What's the rush? You're barely sixteen, San... You still have two years of high school left."

"You don't get it," she answers in a dismissive tone, but Quinn never lets her off the hook easily. The blonde pulls them into the small alley they always pass on the way to the Fabray house. "What do you think you're doing?"

"We need to finish talking about this and my mom's home so we can't do it there," Quinn elucidates. "What is it that I don't understand, San? Explain it to me."

"I don't want to do this—" Santana tries to walk back out to the main road, but Quinn manages to trap her body in between a brick wall and ivory skin. "You're being an asshole right now, Q."

"I don't care, you're going to talk to me, S." Quinn fires back. "I'm your best friend, you need to let me in that head of yours so I can make sure you won't do anything you'll regret."

Santana's certain she has reached her limit, her head is spinning and her emotions are all over the place. Plus, Quinn's closeness isn't helping at all... She grunts and angrily squints at her best friend. "I told you already, I fucking hate Lima— I'm choking in this town, Q... I need to get out and every year that passes, my chances of getting what I want decreases. You're fine, you love McKinley, it's pretty much guaranteed you're gonna make captain next year and you have Finn... You're life is set here while I'm fucking miserable."

She doesn't know when the tears started flowing, she only knows that her cheeks are coated with moisture. Quinn drops her arms, staring at Santana in a way that makes her feel pitied so she straightens up and reinstates her walls. "Santana, I—"

"Shut up, I don't want to hear it," up to now, she doesn't know when this extremely blunt dynamic developed between them, but it's been this way for a while and it's easier for her to hide her deathless inappropriate feelings for Quinn so she doesn't question it. But during moments like this, when Quinn breaks the silent rule and shows that their relationship is deeper than some high school partnership to stay on top of their peers...

It's moments like _this_ when she fails to camouflage the feelings that have been there since she was fourteen.

"Don't leave me— if you decide to run away, take me with you, alright?" Quinn presses her face into the crook of Santana's neck, allowing tanned skin to intercept her tears. Santana freezes, she hardly remembers the last time she heard Quinn sound insecure, she's not used to it anymore. "I need you here." Santana's arms find their way to her lower back, pulling her in even closer with ease. "Do you know how alone I'll feel if you leave?"

Santana kisses Quinn's head, dumbfounded by how unguarded they were both being with each other. _It hasn't been this way for a while..._ "I'm sorry," it's unclear what _exactly_ she's apologizing for, but she knows she needs to say those two words aloud. She was only planning to wipe away Quinn's tears, that's why she cupped the blonde's chin. There were no ulterior motives, she was just supposed to continue being a good best friend...

Nothing was supposed to happen.

She wasn't supposed to cross _that _boundary again.

Her lips didn't get the message though... If they did, then she wouldn't be kissing Quinn right now. She _is_ though and it's distressing how perfect the kiss feels. She closes her eyes, waiting for Quinn to push her off and curse her out, but that moment never comes. Instead, a tongue pokes its way into her mouth and meets her front teeth. _Fuck. _This is wrong in so many levels, the kiss in the park more than a year ago was nothing compared to this. They're violating the sacred agreement.

_This is wrong._

She doesn't stop it though, she needs Quinn to be the one to do that. It's one thing to ignore your desires, but letting it go when you already have it? That's nonsensical. The kiss represents their relationship perfectly, it's a deviant duel of tongues— where they fight for dominance while soothing each other in a way no one else can.

It doesn't make sense to Santana, but Quinn was never easy to read— even for her. She stops herself from popping whatever bubble they are in, in spite of the fact that she knows that would be the right thing to do. It's okay, if Quinn thinks this was all a mistake after, she'll accept it— it'll hurt, but she'll accept it. She places the palm of her hand on the nape of Quinn's neck and deepens the kiss even more.

Might as well make it the best '_mistake' _of their lives.

* * *

**2016  
**

_Everything seems like a city of dreams, I'll never know why, but I still miss you._

She pours some more red wine into her empty glass. Her iPhone was docked-in the complementary speakers beside her bed, playing the playlist she made after her break-up with Quinn. It's been two years and she's still not sick of listening to those 23 songs... It's 2 in the morning and she's a mess, she's sure she's going to be hungover during her flight tomorrow, but she still refuses to stop drinking.

She just needs something in her system to dull the ache.

It helps.

Her phone chimes, disrupting the music. She would've ignored the text, but it was a unique alert tone— a special one. She clumsily stands up from where she was sitting on the floor, near the coffee table of her hotel suite, staggering towards the speakers. She grabs it and falls onto the bed, centering her dilated eyes onto the screen.

**_Quinn Fabray_**** ㈴5_:_ **_Are you still awake? Tell the front desk to let me go up. _

**_Santana Lopez: _**_Now?_

She's thankful that she only needs to type short words, her disoriented state making it difficult to text properly.

**_Quinn Fabray_**** ㈴5_:_ **_Yeah._

Santana starts to reach for the wired phone, but stops herself midway.

**_Santana Lopez: _**_Why?_

_****__Quinn Fabray _㈴5_****__:_ _Are you going to do it or not? It's late.._

She's pretty sure that letting Quinn into her hotel room while she's drunk and emotionally unstable is a horrible idea— _it's Quinn though_... So she calls the clerk at the lobby and semi-slurs out an approval for Quinn's late night visit. Santana ponders cleaning up a bit, but she doesn't have a lot of time so she just aligns the bottle and glass still sitting in the living room.

Her stomach drops as soon as she hears a knock on the door. She looks through the peephole even if she knows it's just Quinn— the unneeded act, giving her a moment where she can just gaze at her ex-girlfriend's face without their messy history fogging everything up. She unlocks the door and swings it open, she feels her breath hitch in her throat as Quinn's scent invades her senses.

It's been _too_ long since they've been alone together.

"I obviously didn't wake you," Quinn remarks, staring at the mess behind Santana's shoulder. "Can I come in?"

"Should you?"

"Ugh, can you just give me a straight answer?" Santana sighs before widening the gap of the doorway and allowing Quinn into the room. Her lungs greedily stuffing themselves with Quinn's heady perfume as she walks by. "Are you drunk?" The blonde asks, scrutinizing the hotel suite— Santana's used clothes strewn around the floor, her suitcase by the bed, wide open and half empty. "This place is a mess."

"I just had a bit of wine, I'm alright," she sounds pretty convincing and if it were anyone else, she's sure they'd believe her. "Well, I wasn't really expecting any visitors... Mind telling me why you're in my hotel room at—" she checks the time on the lock screen of her phone. "2:37 AM? I thought we agreed that we'd avoid each other while we're here... It doesn't seem like you're trying that hard, Fabray."

There's no doubt that Quinn has no fucking right to be in here... Her neat self, clearly judging Santana's innate messiness, like she's always done. Quinn shouldn't be this close to her, not after betraying her by letting some modelesque pretty boy take her place and renouncing their relationship.

And yet she's not gonna usher the girl out—_ of course not. _

"You're not in the right state of mind to talk, I should go..." Santana sighs, but says nothing, opting to sit on the couch and toss back the contents of her wine glass. She can feel Quinn staring at the side of her head and she knows the blonde is waiting for her to react appropriately, but her mind is blank and she's fucking exhausted. "You're just going to sit there and say nothing?"

"Yeah, Quinn, I'm just going to sit here and say nothing," she exhales deeply, closing her eyes for a second to relax. "If you want to leave, then leave... I'm too tired to decrypt whatever's going through your head right now."

"You really shouldn't have come to Lima, San," Quinn breathes out after a pregnant pause.

"Excuse me?" Santana snaps her head up, instantaneously fuming. "You seriously came here at this ungodly hour to fucking tell me that I shouldn't have come here?" She stalks her way to Quinn, backing the blonde up to the nearest bare wall. "Shut me out of your life if you want, lie to your boyfriend and hide what we had— I don't give a fuck," she hisses venomously. "But quit this shit, Q. I'm gonna say it one more time, I didn't come here for you. I didn't even want to see you so get over yourself."

She's lying, but the fury in her eyes is real. And she hopes that's enough to reinforce her bluff.

"Yeah?" Quinn raises an eyebrow and searches her eyes so intensely that she has to look away. _Who needs polygraphs? _She wishes that Quinn would just back down for once, but the girl's always been a fighter— a master in wicked warfare. "Then why'd you sing to me a while ago?"

"Well, aren't you conceited?" Santana chuckles before shaking her head and stepping backwards, distancing herself enough so she can breathe. "I got shit for singing _that_ song and the new song from Noah and my PR already, there's a video of it on YouTube..." She rolls her eyes at her own stupidity, she should've just stuck to the primary track list. "So you don't have to tell me it was a bad idea, okay? I'm well aware."

"San—"

"You're right..." Quinn's forehead creases in confusion and Santana moves even further away. "You really should go," she sees Quinn's mouth fall open, discernibly surprised by the dismissal. "Fine, you don't think I should be here, it doesn't matter. I'm leaving in the morning and this time, I promise I'll stay out of your life. No more texts, calls, letters or tickets, I'm done, Quinn." She collapses onto the couch, heart trembling inside. "You win."

"Santana, I'm just—"

"I'm giving you what you want already, please just go." Santana meets her eyes, not exerting any effort to hide her unshed tears anymore. "I'm so tired, Quinn. We can't keep causing each other pain— this has to stop..." Her voice cracks and a couple of tears slip out. "You were always the smarter one, I guess you were right when you said we were destroying each other." She's not sure where she found the strength to utter these words, but the dam is broken and everything needs to flow out. "You're happy and I'm not going to lie and say I'm happy for you because I'm not, _fuck no_. You're settling and by doing so, you're forcing me to settle too. I just really hope he can love you half as much as I _do_ and believe me, that's already plenty."

"I hate in when you say things like that." Santana shrugs and wipes her cheeks, she can tell Quinn's going to break down soon too. It's detectable in the way her body was slowly losing the fight against gravity, her shoulders slumping and legs quavering. "You love making it impossible for me to move on, don't you?"

"I don't know, it doesn't matter, I'm done. You have nothing to worry about anymore, now go home so we can both finally get on with our lives."

"Alright then," Quinn hesitates before moving to the door, each step seemingly smaller than the one before it. Santana doesn't even bother to lift her head from her lap, she's seen Quinn walk away from her before, she doesn't need to relive it. "Take care of yourself, Santana."

When the door clicks close, she hiccups once and the tears begin cascading out of her eyes again, uncontrollable tremors racking through her body, crushing her very core.


	3. Chapter 3

_Some say the worst goodbyes are the ones that are unsaid, but honestly__—__ the most painful goodbyes are the ones that are spoken but make no sense. A goodbye, which you don't agree with, but you have no choice in the matter because the other person just doesn't want to be in your life anymore._

_Unexplained goodbyes hurt, but there's always a flicker of hope in silence._

* * *

**2010**

Her legs falter and she falls back onto the wall, gasping for air. She licks her bottom lip, relishing in the fact that its coated in Quinn's beeswax lip balm. She stares at her shoes, too afraid to look into hazel eyes. She sees Quinn stumble backwards and she feels her stomach plummet towards the hard pavement. "Quinn, wait—" The blonde was never good at taking orders though, she kept moving further and further away from her grasp. "Just wait a sec, talk to me."

"I need to go," Quinn swipes the back of her hand across her lips, erasing all traces of their kiss and piercing Santana's heart. "I'll call you or something." Santana pushes herself off the wall and tries to grab onto her best friend's arm, but Quinn shook her head and whispered out an insignificant_ 'sorry'_ before bolting towards her street, leaving Santana all alone in between two brick houses.

"Fucking idiot," Santana curses at herself before kicking the ground. She contemplates running after Quinn, but she knows doing so will cause more harm than good. Quinn obviously needs space... She bites back her tears and starts walking home, dragging her feet the whole way. There were different voices resonating in her head, yelling at her for what she's done, blaming her for fucking everything up.

_You took advantage of the whole situation. Quinn needed a shoulder to cry on, not your tongue down her throat..._

She clutches her abdomen, feeling a mixture of bile and guilt swirl around her gut— her head was spinning so fast, she felt like vomiting. She crumbles as soon as she closes the front door of her house, her head thumping against the hard wood when she lets go of her body. _Thank God no one else is home..._ She shouldn't have kissed Quinn, she shouldn't have irresponsibly given into her carnal urges, she shouldn't have fucked things up.

A fantasy will always be a fantasy till' you break the rules to make it a reality, but sometimes dreams are just nightmares in disguise.

* * *

**2016**

_"I saw you again, it felt like we had never met... It's like the sun set in your eyes and never wanted to rise," _she lets her eyes droop close, nodding in tune with the beat. _"And what have you done__—__ with the one I love? When I look into your eyes, I see no surprise," _she flinches, involuntarily imagining a specific shade of hazel.

She moves her hands up to her headphones, cupping the audio set closer to her ears. _"I always thought it was sad__—__ the way we act like strangers... After all that we had, we act like we had never met," _her lip quivers and she shakes her head, stepping away from the studio microphone. "I need a minute," she calls out to the people on the other side of the glass, tearing off her headset and sighing weightily. She rubs at her eyes, inwardly berating herself for not being able to get through the whole song _(again)._

She fucking wrote the song, she should be able to sing it...

"Are you okay?" Rachel Berry, her vocal coach, asks using the intercom and she opts to answer with a thumbs up rather than a verbal response. "Let's take it from the second part— alright, whenever you're ready, superstar!"

Santana takes in a deep breath, forcing Quinn into the back of her mind. _"We make believe, I've never seen your face__—__ you neither mine, and catch my eye, don't register a smile... You were more than just a friend," _she wonders why she loves to torture herself like this, why she chooses to weave so much of her personal life into her lyrics. _"Oh but the feeling, it never came to an end__—__ I can't bear to see you."_

_"I always thought it was a shame that we have to play these games, it felt like you really knew me, now it feels like you see through me," _she pushes on despite the way her chest was clenching painfully, thankful for the few seconds of rest that the beat solo provided her. _"When I see you again, I'll know not to expect__—__ stay one step away, we will have to wait," _she prepares herself for the concluding lines, well aware of the way they powerfully affected her. _"When I see you again, and I'm greeted as a friend, it is understood that we did all we could..."_

"Great job, San," Rachel beams at her from the live room and she gratefully smiles back, not only at Rachel, but at the rest of the team— even if smiling was the last thing she wanted to do at the moment.

"I think I'm done for the day," she states after untangling the mess of wires and moving away from her place. "I'll see you all tomorrow," she tosses over her shoulder, rushing to the parking lot as fast as she could.

* * *

**2010**

_"This is Quinn Fabray, I can't talk right now, but I'm sure you already know what to do!" _[beep]

"Yo Q, it's me again," she chews on the inner part of her cheek, sinking down by the foot of her bed for stability. "Can you call me back or something? We really need to talk about things..." She was about to end the voicemail, her dignity intact, when something on her desk catches her eye. "_And I_- I want you to know that I'm so sorry, I know I really fucked things up between us and _ugh_— I'm an idiot," she states pathetically, feeling more mortified than ever. "Yeah, _umm_, just call me back when you can..."

She knows if it were anyone else, she would've given up by now. It's been more than a week since Quinn last spoke to her and the whole situation was driving her nuts. Their fights never last this long, but then again they never fought like _this_.

This wasn't some meaningless brawl in the middle of a hallway or a drunken slap fest_—_this was real. She doesn't understand why it hurts so badly since Quinn's reaction was anticipated... The girl wears a cross pendant around her neck for Christ's sakes. An innocent peck on the lips was a whole world away from the last kiss she gave Quinn, the blonde has every right to be angry at her.

Hell, she was angry at herself.

There was only one rule_—__ hide your feelings._

She wouldn't be dealing with all of this if she just kept following that stupid rule.

She lets her phone fall onto her carpeted floor, groaning and roughly brushing the ends of her hoodie's sleeves all over her face. _Stupid, stupid, stupid._ She stands up, crossing her bedroom to retrieve the small dark oak box with the letters '_SL'_ engraved on its cover, she traces the elegant carving with the tip of her pointer finger, replaying one of her favorite memories— Christmas Break '08.

_"I can't believe you're back!" Santana yells out, immediately engulfing her best friend into a bear hug. "I missed you so much."_

_"Missed you more," the blonde mumbles into her hair, making Santana whisper out the word 'impossible'. "Believe me, I'll choose you over a trip to New York any day."_

_"You're only saying that cause you just got back," Santana says in a knowing tone and Quinn shakes her head earnestly causing her chest to inappropriately flutter. "I hate to sound clingy, but never leave me again, Fabray... 2 weeks without seeing your face is crazy."_

_"Tell me about it," Quinn abruptly pulls Santana towards her for another hug, planting a surprise kiss onto the brunette's rapidly-flushing cheek. "Oh and before I forget, I got you something__—__" She rummages through her leather satchel, pulling out a little rectangular object. "Well, Ash was the one who found the shop, but I'm the one who found that and I paid for it with my own money."_

_Santana studies the wooden box in her hands, taking in the exquisite way her initials were etched on its surface. "It's beautiful, Q... Thanks."_

_"You have to open it, silly," Quinn tells her through a grin and she carefully lifts the lid causing a familiar tune to float out of the container. She darts her eyes up in awe, connecting with hazel pupils. "Please don't take my sunshine away," Quinn sings along and Santana feels her heart catch on fire. "Do you remember?"_

_"How can I forget? I used to sing this to you all the time just to piss you off," Santana chuckles out, feeling her throat constrict as she continued to listen to flow of simple notes. "You hated it so much."_

_"Well, maybe I didn't hate it as much as I made it seem," Quinn replies, averting her eyes away. "Anyway, I figured since that song played such a big part in our friendship... It would be a cute gift."_

_"It's sweet, thank you," Santana was supposed to plant a grateful, platonic kiss onto Quinn's cheek but the other girl moved slightly, which led to her lips landing on the corner of Quinn's mouth instead. "Oh__—__ uhh," she stutters out, taking a big step backwards._

_"You're welcome," Quinn rushes out, looking equally flustered by what happened. "Okay so give me the low down, what's up with the rest of the Cheerios? I feel like I've been gone for ages!"_

Santana closes her eyes, rounding up enough courage to blindly open the music box— it feels like she's unlocking Pandora's box since unrequited love is probably one of the most beautiful evils of the human world.

Quinn gave this to her more than a year ago and her convoluted, one-sided feelings have only grown since then... The melody plays and she buries the nails of her unused hand through her jeans, into the skin of her thigh. She safely places it back on her desk once the jingle is over, tears freely running down her cheeks. She picks up her phone and punches in Quinn's number again.

_"This is Quinn Fabray, I can't talk right now, but I'm sure you already know what to do!" _[beep]

"Look, this whole thing is driving me crazy, we need to fix this _now_," she mumbles out through trembling lips before taking in a large breath and singing the next part of her message. _"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are gray, you'll never know dear how much I love you__—__" _Her eyes widen as soon as the last three words escape her mouth, she abruptly ends the voice note and blankly stares at the screen of her cellphone.

_Are you insane?_

It's been a week since her not-so-innocent kiss with Quinn, a week of absolutely no communication with her best friend, a week of dealing with tremendous guilt and angst all by herself. _Maybe she is starting to go crazy... _And, the followup text she sends Quinn less than an hour later does nothing but support the theory regarding her diminishing sanity.

**_Santana Lopez:_**_ Please don't take my sunshine away.. :( Good night & I'm sorry again, brighteyes._㈏0

* * *

**2016**

"Okay, why am I in here with you on such a beautiful Wednesday morning?" Santana wonders aloud, quirking a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at her manager. "This better be important, Puckerman."

"If you value your career then you'll value this meeting, trust me," Noah responds in his _'strictly business'_ voice. "I suggest you get comfortable, San... Coffee?" She nods and he calls up his secretary, requesting for their usual caffeine orders. "So it seems like you're done with more than 50% of your third album."

"Yeah, we finished another track a couple of days ago," Santana replies, curious as to why Noah was bringing her progress up. "I think it's been going pretty well."

"Your CD arrived yesterday," he nods towards one of the clear plastic packets on the corner of the table that was separated from the high pile of disc cases.

"I didn't know they sent you a copy of that..."

"Eh, I asked for it, how was Lima by the way?" Their coffees arrive and she cradles the hot mug in her hands, formulating a proper response to Noah's strange question. She's well aware of how her manager operates by now and she knows that this is the _'calm before the storm'_, he wants to talk about something else.

"Cut to the chase, what is this about?" She demands impatiently, bringing the rim of her coffee cup to her lips.

"Okay, better yet, how is _she_?"

She snorts indignantly at the succeeding question. "What is this— _therapy_? Look, what happened in Lima is none of your business so I suggest you fuck off," she growls out in a harsh way, unprofessionally rolling her eyes. "I already dealt with the consequences of singing the wrong songs in Ashley's party... I don't want to talk about anything related to that trip anymore."

"Alright, well, I listened to what you have so far... Fucking beautiful stuff, but there's no way in hell that we're going to release it like this, " he tells her matter-of-factly. "You're so goddamn gifted yet you choose to waste your talent and time by singing the same sad song_ over and over_ again. The actual lyrics may change, but the message and mood of every track stays the same, it's so depressing... You're 22, you shouldn't sound like you're going to die in the next few months!"

"If you're trying to get me to stop writing my own songs then—"

"No, I'm trying to get you to stop writing songs about Quinn breaking up with you," he cuts her off in a much gentler tone. "Enough is enough... What happened to that kid I found on YouTube, the one who had such a bright future ahead of her?" Santana looks down onto her lap, watching the chestnut-colored liquid swirl around in its confines, wishing away the impact of Noah's words. "I know Quinn broke your heart, San... I just hope she didn't break _you_."

"You don't get it..."

"Yeah, I _don't_," he interlocks his fingers and rests his hands on his big glass desk. "I don't understand why someone who worked as hard as you did is willing to throw away everything over a bad breakup that happened almost two years ago. It's a slippery slope to the bottom, Santana."

"I'm not throwing anything away... I chose my career over her, didn't I?" She challengingly spits back. "I'm just writing how I feel, alright? I know my past songs were more upbeat but things change, Noah."

"_Still_, the whole world doesn't need to know that you think your brain is covered in hazel stains," he looks at her pointedly and she exasperatedly sighs, knowing that he was partly right. "This isn't you, your last song barely topped iTunes and then you decide to shock everyone by performing it for the first time in front of a bunch of kids less than two weeks after its release... It's like you wanted your work to be pirated," Noah rubbed his forehead in frustration. "People are starting to talk, _our_ bosses are starting to talk."

"I don't know how many times you want me to apologize for that," Santana grits out. "It's not like I planned it, okay? I was desperate..."

"And even if you refuse to tell me the whole story, I know Quinn was somehow involved in this _'desperation'_ of yours... She moved on— you really should do the same thing," he takes out his phone and Santana uses the interruption to get her head together.

Okay, maybe her next album has been due for a while now— and maybe, the stuff she has been coming up with recently can be considered repetitive since they all bitterly hint at heartbreak, but she's just keeping it real. No one should fault her for that... And _'singing about Quinn'_ can't be the problem because she's been doing that since she was fourteen, and it's also what won her the 6 Grammys in her living room.

Singing about Quinn is all she knows.

It doesn't matter what kind of song she's singing or writing, somehow the lyrics _always_ bring her back to Quinn.

"Can I come in?" A raspy voice fills her ears and she twists her neck around, her eyebrows dip in confusion when she sees a pale and slender red-haired girl, wearing a gray snapback cap backwards and extremely casual (yet undeniably stylish) clothes.

_Blaze._

"Of course," Noah answers, beckoning her inside with his right hand. He points at the free chair beside Santana and the DJ takes the offered seat with a charming smile, winking at Santana as she sunk into the expensive leather, her mid length hair contrasting with her basic shirt. "I'm so glad that you could join us, Blaze."

"The pleasure's all mine," Blaze replies, grinning at Santana's direction rather than Noah's. "I've wanted to work with _the _Santana Lopez for a while now and ever since she turned down my invitation, no one else seems capable of sparking my interest." Santana chuckles lightly, remembering all the times Blaze sort of hit on her in past parties and events— _she was definitely a charmer_— they were nothing more than professional acquaintances though, mostly for the reason that Santana distances herself from anyone that could possibly want something more than simple friendship from her. "You're quite the heartbreaker," Blaze teases, dramatically placing a hand over her chest.

Santana discreetly checks Blaze out after seeing Blaze's forearm flex a little, she darts her eyes up and down a slim but toned body, innocently wondering where the redhead worked out or who her trainer was. "I remember texting you an apology," she plays along, an atypical smile tugging on the corners of her mouth.

"And I remember asking you out to dinner," Blaze retorts in a similarly playful manner— Noah decides to expediently reenter the _supposed_ business meeting, clearing his throat to gain both artists' misplaced attention. "_Right_, why are we here again, Puckerman?"

"The label thinks it would be highly beneficial for both of your careers if you two collaborated on a few tracks," Noah relays, pausing as he went through a document on his computer. "Are you sure you don't want to reschedule and continue this at another time? I mean, I think it would be best if Mr. Anderson was here to go through all of this with us."

"As long as you two aren't planning to scam me, I think it's fine that my manager isn't here," Blaze returns confidently. "You said it yourself on the phone last night— Santana and I are both busy people and this was the only mutual time available, so even if it sucks that Blaine can't be here because of his family emergency, I think we can push through with the agenda this morning."

Santana's ears perk up, hearing Blaze speak _properly_ for the first time, bar the utilization of the word _'sucks'_. "Alright, let's keep going then, our executives think that you two should—"

"Hold on, it seems like you and Blaze already know what you want to achieve from this little encounter, but I'm not interested," Santana stands up, ignoring Blaze's confused stare and Noah's irritated sigh. "Tell the executives to shove—"

"Your career down a garbage chute?" Noah goads, earning him a clenched jaw from his prized client. "Sit down," he orders and Santana begrudgingly acquiesces. "S, I care about you, alright? You're one of the few people in this world that I can honestly say that to..." Santana sighs, wringing her wrists on her lap. "I'm on _your _side but you have to let me help you."

"Alright, as much as I'm enjoying the _secret_ tension and drama in this room," Blaze inserts sarcastically. "Bottom line, the boss people want Santana and I to work together, I want us to work together... I don't know if _you_ want to work with me," she looks at Santana with a cocked eyebrow but she doesn't give the Latina enough time to respond. "So if ever you two fix whatever this is," she motions between Santana and Noah. "Text Blaine and I the schedule plus all the other shit I need to know— cool, we're done."

"Done?" Blaze nods once, rising from the chair and straightening out her top and skinny jeans. "Wait—"

"It's done, Puckerman," Blaze rolls her dusky gray eyes, typing something out on her phone before shifting her focus to Santana. "Cutting this meeting short cause you seem to be in a rush... But I'll see you soon, beautiful," the DJ adjusts her cap, making a show out of winking at Santana before strutting out of the office in her black chucks.

"You're insane if you actually think I'm working with her."

"You heard her, San... It's _done_."

* * *

**2010**

"Tana, wake up!" Maribel, her mother, yells from downstairs, the loud scream making her jolt upright. She focuses her sleepy eyes on the wall clock, which told her it was only a bit past 9 in the morning. _She's on summer break... Life doesn't exist until after noon. _She groans before flopping onto her back and letting her eyes droop close again. "Santana, Quinn is here!" If she sat up quickly a while ago, this time she was out of bed in seconds, her body jumpstarted by the knowledge that Quinn was there to see her.

She takes the stairs two steps at a time, thankful for the grace cheerleading provides. She runs into the kitchen when she sees that both the living room and the dining room were empty, cannoning into the sight of Quinn eating a short stack of her mother's pancakes. "Quinn_—_"

"Tana, if I knew you weren't going to fix yourself up _at all_, I would've just let Quinn go straight to your room," the older Lopez scolds her, scrutinizing her pajamas and uncombed hair. "Honestly, I don't know where you..." Santana tunes her out, preferring to put all her attention on Quinn, who hasn't once lifted her eyes from the plate of food in front of her. "Are you even listening to me?"

"Huh?" She shakes her head and stares at her mother, she tries to reel in fragments of the prior sentences directed at her, but she comes up with zilch. "I'm sorry, what were you saying?"

"I said, be good because I have to work two back-to-back shifts today so I probably won't see you until tomorrow morning," Maribel repeats before kissing Santana's head and smiling at Quinn. "It was great catching up with you, Quinn. Try to come by more often, alright?"

"Thank for breakfast, Mrs. Lopez," Santana inwardly frowns in spite of Quinn's politeness because the blonde hasn't even acknowledged her presence yet. She watches silently as they go through the whole _'I told you to call me by my first name' _thing, impatiently waiting to be left alone with her best friend. As soon as the sound of the front door clicking close registers in her head, Santana opens her mouth to speak, but of course, Quinn beats her to it. "You never play fair, do you?"

"What?" Santana grabs the edge of the far side of counter with both of her hands, not self-assured with her balance. She tries to decipher what Quinn just said, but she couldn't make any sense out of the six words.

"You make out with me right after telling me you want to run away to California, then when I try to ignore you and figure things out... You fucking sing to me through the phone," Quinn rants, sending a second wave of embarrassment to wash over Santana. "You never play fair," she reiterates angrily.

"I'm sorry for kissing you, Quinn," Santana lies through her teeth, fighting the need to immediately retract the statement. "You were at a bad state and I_—__ I shouldn't have kissed you _like that. I fucked up and I just really want us to get over all of this so we can go back to the way things were," she feebly confesses, dishonestly implying that it was all just a big mistake. "Can we please just move on?"

"Do you regret what happened?"

Santana's eyes narrow, attempting to figure out what her best friend wanted to hear from her. "Do you want me to regret it?"

"What kind of answer is that?" Quinn challenges, pushing herself away from the half-finished meal and standing up on her feet. She walks up to Santana, not close enough to invade her personal space, but enough for her scent to overwhelm the brunette_— _it's been a while since they last spoke and the proximity was making Santana uneasy. "Why do you always have to be so goddamn hard to read?"

"Me?" Something snaps within Santana and she shakes her head slowly, unbelievingly. "_I'm _hard to read?" She provokes, moving closer to Quinn and trapping the blonde in between herself and the kitchen surface. She flatly plants her palms on the marble, banning the blonde from walking away before they finish. "I was the one who kissed you Quinn, how the fuck am I hard to_—_"

"But that was just you '_fucking up'_, right?" A sharp poke lands on Santana's shoulder and she incredulously gapes at Quinn. "I honestly don't even know why I'm here, I woke up this morning and heard your message then I felt like I just _had _to see you. You're such an asshole though_—_" The blonde's closed fist collides into Santana's arm, making her wince. "I hate you so much," the punches keep coming, but they weren't strong enough to cause Santana real pain_—_Quinn's tears were effortlessly making her heart clench though. "I really hate you."

Santana covers the blonde with her arms, holding her tightly and putting an end to the assault. She waits until Quinn stops trying to fight her off before wiping away the blonde's tears. "I'm sorry," she presses their foreheads together and gently clasps Quinn's face in both of her hands, she wasn't sure what she was apologizing for anymore but she just couldn't stand seeing Quinn in that state. "I'm sorry that everything is so difficult," she swipes her thumbs over Quinn's wet cheeks, erasing the tear stains. "We'll get over this, alright? It's just some stupid fight, stop crying."

"Please don't do that," Quinn whimpers, shaking Santana off. "You really need to stop doing this, you need to stop saying shit like that cause I can't keep up with us anymore... One minute, we're fighting over the smallest things and then the next, you say something sweet and—_ just fuck_, I don't get it."

"What's wrong?" Santana intertwines both of their hands, preventing Quinn from pushing her further away. "Come on, talk to me, Q."

"I'm so confused," Quinn chokes out. "How am I supposed to be mad at you when you always make it so fucking easy to fall in love with you?" Santana's jaw drops, her heart beat faltering, she loosens her grip on her best friend, her hands falling limp at her sides. "I'm so sick of this push and pull game we're playing, S. I don't even know what's going on anymore, but you're always in my head and I'm just so confused... This isn't normal."

"I— I think I love you," Santana recovers from her stupor, confessing her feelings without second thought, before the chance to do so disappears. "I mean, of course _I love you_, you're my best friend. Ugh, what I'm trying to say is... You make me smile without even trying and like whenever I sing a song, somehow the lyrics always bring me back to you," her breathing was becoming more and more irregular as the onslaught of admissions continued. "And when I envision my future, I can never imagine being with anyone else..."

"San—"

"Look, I'm so scared, alright? I've actually been scared for a while now and maybe that's the reason things changed between us when we got older, but I'm scared because I know I shouldn't be feeling these things for you," her own tears drip, producing tapered wet paths down both of her cheeks. "Sometimes I pick fights with you cause I think it helps with hiding my feelings, I don't want to do that anymore though..." She starts to rub comforting circles on the back of Quinn's hands. "I'm not sure what I want to happen now, all I know is that I feel _so much_ for you and I know we're both really young, but God I don't care, it doesn't matter._ I just_— you're so important to me," Santana knows she's hardly making sense, but there's so much going on and the act of properly stringing her words together was proving to be terribly difficult.

"You're important to me too and I'm so sorry," a pang of excruciating pain darts through her chest because of the vague apology, she holds her breath, presuming that Quinn was going to leave again. "I'm sorry I've been such a bitch to you, you know that I love you though," Santana nods, pressing a kiss to Quinn's forehead. "But the terrifying idea of being _in love _with you has been messing with my head for the longest time."

"I know what you mean, but you don't have to be scared," Santana pulls her in for a firm hug, needing to feel closer to Quinn. "We'll figure everything out, alright? I'm right here, I'll _always_ be right here," she promises, conscious that Quinn was having a difficult time accepting the whole ordeal. "We'll get through all of this, I promise, it's going to be okay."

"My parents, Finn, our friends, the _chur_—"

"They all don't matter right now, no one else is here," Santana calms her down, replacing her hands on Quinn's cheeks. "This is about _us_ and I know a lot of things are still unclear, but we'll take things slow, no pressure."

"What if we're doing the wrong thing? What if we shouldn't even try? I don't want to end up losing you..." Santana shakes her head in protest, brushing away Quinn's falling tears.

_Never. _

"Lose me? It's always going to be me and you, whether as friends or something more, we'll be in each other's lives _forever_," she knows it's easy to spew out all of these words, especially since she's only sixteen,_ but she's talking to Quinn_, which means she plans on keeping all of these promises. "I want you to be brave enough to take a chance on us, but I'll accept whatever decision you make and no matter what, I swear we'll be okay..." She allows Quinn to bury her face into her neck, coating her collarbone with moisture.

"I'm so tired of acting like I don't want to be with you, San... I'm done pretending."

A smile barrels into Santana's face after hearing such beautiful words from the angel in front of her. "Well, you don't have to pretend ever again," Santana positions Quinn to look her in the eye and nudges her nose against the blonde's, significantly lessening the space between their lips. "I really want to kiss you right now," she murmuringly declares, dropping her gaze onto Quinn's slightly parted pink lips for a fraction of a second before meeting her eyes once more.

"Why don't you?"

"I'm scared you'll run away or _something_," she dryly swallows, feeling light puffs of sweet air depart from Quinn's mouth. She can see the eagerness and longing swirling inside the pair of darkened glossy eyes, but she needs to know that this won't be like their last kiss.

She can't handle going through _that _again...

"Is this going to be just another '_fuck up' _for you?" Santana shakes her head in a sombre manner, immensely regretting her earlier choice of words. "Then I'm not going anywhere," they both smile as Quinn took on the duty of gently cleaning the tears off their faces with her fingertips. Santana draws in an ample amount of oxygen through her nose before crashing their lips together, smiling into the slightly-salty kiss because she has every right to.

The girl of her dreams loves her back and it feels like her feet weren't on the ground anymore. She tugs Quinn flush against her by the blonde's waist, getting impossibly closer.

* * *

**2016**

She takes in a sharp breath, using air to compensate for bravery. She inserts the key into the hole, unlocking the door of her house's master bedroom for the first time in more than a year. No one has been in there— _not since Quinn left her_. She knows it's pretty dumb that she's been sleeping in the guest room of her _own _home, but it's impossible for her to get a good night's rest on the same bed that held so much remnants of _their _love.

After their breakup, it's as if there was a ghost that took refuge in that room— the space became sacred, untouchable... She slowly sways the door open, revealing an area that smelled of trapped air and a perfume that she desperately wants to obliterate from her memory. Everything looks the same, the only palpable change was in the feelings that the furniture and random objects evoked.

For fuck's sake, she needs to let go... It's pathetic, really. Noah was right when he said that thing about Quinn _breaking her_ and not only her heart— she's forgotten how to live since the love of her life walked out on her, she's become a lifeless drone and she fucking hates it. She's too young to feel _this_ empty, she still has her whole life ahead of her yet it's as if her life ended the night she lost Quinn...

She needs to move on.

This whole Blaze thing is an eye-opener, she's going down a path of self-destruction and she has to catch herself before it's too late. Quinn moved on already, it shouldn't be _this _hard for her— two years of longing for something that was already swallowed up by the past is overkill. She needs to move on. The strike of anger hammers into her from out of nowhere, setting all of her senses with a flame fuelled by fury.

It's fucking unfair, Quinn's fucking unfair. No one should be allowed to enter someone's life and make them feel _so_ loved, that nothing else can ever provide the same elation that they felt with that person... It's unjust and she feels like a fucking idiot for freely giving such a big part of herself to someone who left her in the end, now there's always going to be something missing from her, now there's always going to be a hole in her heart. She needs to move on. She clenches her fists at her sides, glaring at all of the things Quinn left behind, all of the belongings that would never be able to fill the void that was also bestowed upon her during the blonde's departure.

She strides to the closet, ripping away Quinn's clothes from the hangers and shelves, sending the array of fabrics to the floor. Following the action up by tearing off the various pictures frames on the walls and smashing each one into the hard ground, sending tiny shards of glass in every direction. She needs to move on. The tears fall out of her eyelids unconsciously, dripping onto the mess she was creating.

She pronounced Quinn as the winner back in Lima, she told the blonde that she was finished running after her. If Quinn wants to live a second-rate life with a guy, who will never be able to make her even half as happy as Santana did then _fine_. Santana needs to get on with her own life, this nightmare has to end...

_x-x-x-x_

"Santana?" She groans at the disturbance, draping her forearm over her eyes to block out the sunlight. She hears the door to the bedroom open before Kurt's worried voice fills her ears. "Oh honey, what did you do?"

"Go away, Kurt," she grabs a pillow from somewhere above her head and uses it to cover her face. "I'm fine, just leave me alone."

"You're not fine... What happened in here? _Why are you even in here?_" Santana frustratedly rubs her eyes before suddenly sitting up, sending a jolt of pain to her hungover skull. "What happened?"

"I'm in here because this room is still fucking part of my house," she glares at him through her red puffy eyes. "I can be in here if I want to, I do own the deed to the place."

"What's going on?"

"I guess I wanted to redecorate a little," she chuckles icily, looking at the horribly damaged room. There were broken frames all over the floor along with torn up pictures and sparkling shards of glass on top of the dark flooring. There was a pile of Quinn's crumpled clothes in the corner of the room, reeking of vodka or whatever liquor it was Santana drenched it with last night. There were love mixtapes in the form of discs scattered and cracked all over the place, shiny flat circles, each one bearing Santana's penmanship and a small note in red permanent marker. "No one fucking sleeps here anyway, it doesn't matter."

"I thought you didn't wanna go in here after_—_" She doesn't even let Kurt finish, she sighs through her nose before struggling out of the exit. "Where are_—_"

"I didn't wanna go in there because I always thought she was gonna come back, I wanted everything to remain the way she left it," she whispers out hoarsely after plopping down face first onto the couch in the living room. "But it doesn't matter, she's not coming back. She doesn't want me anymore, she doesn't love me anymore..."

"Okay, what _really_ happened in Lima, San?" Kurt asks, sitting across her with a highly concerned look on his face. She sits properly, knowing that she needs to talk to someone_—_it's unhealthy to keep it all inside. And she honestly feels like she's been teetering on the brink of insanity for a while...

"Nothing, everything with Ashley was going fine, but then Quinn she_—_" Her lip twitches and a new series of unshed tears prick at her eyes. "I don't know, she_—__ she's happy now._ You know, for the longest time, none of this felt like a _real_ breakup... It just felt like we were in one of our stupid fights and I was so sure we were gonna fix things eventually," a sob falls out of her mouth, helping the tears spurt out. "I love her and I thought she still loves me too, _but fuck_, she's not coming back... _I know she's not._"

"San_—_"

"She even referred to me as her '_childhood friend'_, do you know how fucked up that is? It makes me so angry..." Her chest shakes as more salty tears leaked out of her eyes. "Like I'm some fucking embarrassing part of her past that she wants to keep hidden. I know I have my own share of mistakes, but what we had was fucking amazing and hearing her say shit like that... I want everything to stop hurting, _I can't__—_" She chokes on nothing, a succession of coughs erupting from her throat. Kurt quickly stands up and wraps his arms around her, letting her trash about in his arms. She clings onto him, her body completely disintegrating. "I need to stop loving her because it's fucking killing me."

"San, I need you to breathe with me, okay?" She nods and follows Kurt's directions, inhaling and exhaling until the dizziness subsides. "You're okay, you're okay," she shakes her head furiously, she _wasn't_ okay_—_far from. She can't go on like this, she won't last, she can't...

"Last night, I made a promise to myself that I'm gonna learn to love again... Starting with _loving myself_ and the only way I can do that is if I really let her go, Kurt. So I need you to get rid of everything in this house that has anything to do with Quinn," he opens his mouth to argue, but she shakes her head. "_Please__—_I can't do this anymore, I _don't want_ to do this anymore, I have to move on." Santana's not sure how she's going to move on from or let go of someone she's doesn't know how to live without, but she just has to learn. "She's really gone."

* * *

**Songs Used: **Sunset- The XX


End file.
